Take That. In Remembrance of Me.

An otherwise fine, upstanding chain-smoking alcoholic geriatric falls prey to the usual Myocardial Infarction and requires immediate heart-bypass surgery.

He awakens in the ICU to find himself in the care of nuns at Our Lady of the Evening Hospital.

As he lays there exhausted, a nun approaches and, in the spirit of Love and Forgiveness inherent to her creed, inquires kindly: "Do you have health insurance?"

"Not yet," replies the ancient reprobate. "I got kicked outta Medicare for fraud in connection with an allegedly unnecessary hysterectomy. Health insurance that's normal everywhere else came 60 years late to this country and won't cover me for another four years. God Bless America."

"Hrrrumph," grunts the nun. "Do you have any money in the bank?"

"No. Do you?"

The nun perseveres: "Do you have any relatives who could assist with paying off this very expensive procedure?"

He says, "Just one. I outlived all the rest, drinking, smoking, running after women. I just have the one spinster sister left. She's a nun."

Apoplectic, the bride of Christ raises her voice unto heaven and shrieks: "NUNS ARE NOT SPINSTERS, SIR! NUNS ARE MARRIED TO GOD!"

"Fine," replies the ancient reprobate. "Send the bill to my brother-in-law."

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